


HIDE AND SEEK

by cromulentcronut



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, all of the v3 cast will make an appearance here but those tagged are the main focus!, in which everything up to ch6 of v3 is canon, pregame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 13:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15510861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cromulentcronut/pseuds/cromulentcronut
Summary: I can still remember the day the Ultimate Hunt began.It was a day like any other. Sky turned red. Air still sour.There was no warning. None that we took seriously, anyway.We were only told that we should run. And so, run we did.The ultimate game of hide-and-seek has only just begun. As the stakes grow higher and the bonds between its unwilling participants deeper, sixteen students will have to put aside their preconceptions and band together if they ever hope to survive.





	HIDE AND SEEK

_I can still remember the day the Ultimate Hunt began._

_It was a day like any other. Sky turned red. Air still sour._

_There was no warning. None that we took seriously, anyway._

_We were only told that we should run. And so, run we did._

**xxx**

**HIDE AND SEEK**

**xxx**

Shuichi Saihara would never have guessed that a single text would become the catalyst that changed his world forever.

For a while, it went unnoticed. The phone’s incessant vibrations were nothing more than a background hum, drowned out by the liquid melody of Kaede’s music. She turned the air to wine, her fingers caught in an elegant dance only befitting for the Ultimate Pianist, and Shuichi was positively drunk upon it.

When Kaede played her piano, time ceased to flow. Shuichi could almost forget that outside, the evening sky was bruised an angry red. Outside, the world was dying, and there was nothing either of them could do about it – but did it really matter when all he could hear were the sombre notes of Claire de Lune, and Kaede's quiet breath as she dipped and swayed along to the rhythm? 

It was almost jarring how quickly Kaede stopped. Shuichi was jolted from his daydreams by the twang of a misplaced key, of a colourful curse that painted the room purple under its weight. Shuichi shifted from his place on the windowsill. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Kaede said as she reached into her breast pocket. “Just a text. It totally threw me off my game.”

 _A text._ As if on cue, his phone spluttered out another alert. Kaede threw him an amused glance. “Looks as if I’m not the only one. Let me guess. Your uncle?”

Shuichi sighed. “Probably. How about you?”

Kaede’s lips twisted into a frown as she looked down at her screen. “Unknown number. That’s weird.”

“Huh.” Shuichi glanced at his own phone. The same message was displayed. **UNKNOWN NUMBER.** Another notification sprung to life, carrying the foreboding text across its header. An unwelcome shiver crawled up his spine.

“What the hell? They’ve sent like, fifty messages and it’s all the same thing.”

“The same thing?”

Kaede flashed her phone screen to him. There, scrawled across the display in blocky, bolded letters, spelled a single word –

**RUN**

The room went deathly quiet.

Shuichi felt it first. The fingers of anxiety were squeezing across his throat, digging their filthy nails into his windpipe until his lungs ached for breath. _Run._ It wasn’t the message that scared him so, but a culmination of all that had happened in the wake of his short, teenaged existence; the GOFER project, his status as an Ultimate, the cold, hate-filled eyes of the man he’d unwittingly foiled –

“Shuichi. Hey.” Kaede was beside him in a heartbeat. “Listen to me. _Look_ at me.”

He did.

“I have one thing to say,” she said, cryptically.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Kokichi Ouma.”

And she flashed him her trademark smile, so reassuring, so delightfully warm in its rays, that immediately all his anxiety melted away. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, so he released it in a gush of hot air, followed by a relieved attempt at laughter.

Kokichi Ouma and another one of his stupid pranks. His cheeks burned red at how obvious that had been. Some Ultimate Detective he’d turned out to be. “Of course,” Shuichi muttered, rubbing at his forehead. “This kind of thing is right up his alley, huh?”

“Yep. And when I see him next, trust me, I’m gonna give him the biggest verbal beating of a lifetime. He’d _wish_ Gonta had pummelled him to his grave when I’m done with him!” She punched the air with her fist and let out an enthusiastic battle-cry. Shuichi tossed her a coy smile.

“Tenko’s rubbing off on you, huh?”

“You bet. She’s great, once you get to know her. Say, you should hang out with us sometime. Expand your social circle. We’re not all scary, you know.” She hedged him playfully with her elbow. Though Shuichi could appreciate the sincerity of her offer, surely she knew by now what his answer would be. He had given the very same one time and time again.

So, he didn’t reply. Instead he cast his eyes down to the ground, hoping that the shadow of his hat would hide the guilt interwoven across his expression.

Even though they had all declined to participate in the GOFER Project, some of the sixteen Ultimates had attempted to retain a semblance of friendship, even across their different schools. It was mostly thanks to Kaede and Kaito, who crowed on and on about developing a support system during times as tough as these. Shuichi was always invited to participate. But it didn’t seem…right. They were all so brilliant, so magical. What was he? Just a hackneyed detective who couldn’t even solve his own anxiety.

He dug his fingers into the palm of his hand, relishing in the prick of pain as nails pierced skin.

Their sombre moment was interrupted by another text. “Seriously?” Kaede huffed. Before he could stop her, she’d whipped up her phone and was hastily typing out a reply.

“Wait, Kaede, don’t!”

Too late. _Kokichi Ouma, I know it’s you! Stop being a freaking troll and give it up already. You aren’t funny._ It was sent just as Shuichi realized nothing he could say would stop Kaede from taking the bait. He settled back, content to watch in vague amusement as Kaede pouted angrily at her screen.

“How about we turn our phones off?” he suggested gently. Kaede waited another minute before sighing in exaggerated defeat.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right. Sorry, it’s just been a tiring few days. Stupid junk like this is all I need.”

“Believe me, I know.”

As sunset bled into the sky, Shuichi reluctantly went to switch off his cell. Before he pressed the button, however, another message appeared, its text even more alarming than before.

**YOU ARE IN SERIOUS DANGER !!!**

He paused.

_Serious danger. The meteorites. Sickness. Ultimate talents. Hope’s Peak Academy, the remnants of despair, hope, Junko Enoshima, despair –_

“Shuichi?”

He pressed down, hard. Darkness swallowed the text whole.

“Yeah?” Shuichi hoped his voice sounded steadier than he felt.

“C’mon.” Kaede swung her backpack up and reached out her hand. He grasped it in his own and savoured the butterfly wings that brushed through his stomach as she pulled him down from the window’s ledge. “Let’s go home. It’s getting late and I’m _starving_ for my mum’s famous takoyaki!”

 

**xxx**

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you the rest of the way?”

The sky was stained in hues of gold and red. It would have been a romantic sight, were it not for the fact that nowadays this was how the world always looked. Blue days and inky twilights were a hazy memory from the past. The meteorites had bruised the clouds a throbbing red, left the sun to bleed out under their poisonous touch. Even the air carried a tainted reek that made Shuichi’s nose flare.

“I’ll be fine,” he breathed, casting his eyes down to his feet again. Saying goodbye was always the hardest part. He would see Kaede again – of course he would – but it wouldn’t be for a while. They both had busy schedules to upkeep. Their stolen days of classical music and comfortable silence were rare luxuries to be treasured and dreamed of.

“Well. Until next time,” Kaede chirped. She hesitated, then swung out her hand with only her pinky finger hooking out.

Shuichi threw her an incredulous look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a pinky promise,” Kaede said with a mischievous grin. “I learned about it on my most recent tour in America. You take my pinky with your own, and we shake on it.”

“Shake on what?”

“That we’ll meet again.”

It was silly. It was childish. It was soft, and endearing, and cute, and _everything_ that Kaede was. Shuichi tipped his hat even further down to hide his blush as he hooked his finger around Kaede’s own and gave a resolute shake.

“We’ll meet again! So, don’t worry so much, okay?”

How did she make him feel like everything was going to be okay? That the world wasn’t going to shit right before their very eyes? Somehow, whenever he was with Kaede, the future seemed brighter, the possibilities endless. Their fingers disconnected to fall back to their sides, though the electricity of her gentle touch still sizzled in sparks across his skin.

“Get home safe. See you later, Shuichi!” She spun on her heels and began the long walk home, her skirt billowing in the final shreds of evening wind.

“Goodbye, Kaede.”

**xxx**

Something wasn’t right.

Shuichi knew it from the moment he set foot onto his street. Everything was quiet, too quiet, the air so unnaturally still he could hear the crickets from the next lane over. Summer rested its clammy hands upon his shoulders. It wasn’t unusual for most neighbourhoods these days to resemble something akin to a ghost town; fear of the virus kept most confined indoors, with nothing but their masks and their dread to keep them company.

But Shuichi was familiar with that form of silence. It was something he’d known for years.

This was different. This was sinister, foreboding. It crept into his veins and turned his blood to lead. He could almost swear that a dozen eyes pierced holes into his flesh, but no matter where he looked, the fires of their gaze evaded him.  _Remember your breaths. From your diaphragm, nice and slow. One, two, three, four…_

The sound of curtains whipping open snapped across his ears. A pair of faces watched him from behind the safety of their windows. Staring. Unblinking. Cold.

_Hate._

Shuichi instinctively reached up for his cap and looked away.

The same sound followed him from every house he passed. Curtains clattering, doors creaking, windows opening with a gush of hot summer air. Try as he might, his breath began to tear. Eyes. So many eyes. Burning holes into his back. Leaving coals within his wake.

And then he saw it.

His Uncle’s house, desecrated. Its door unhinged. Its windows jagged teeth. The buzz of cicadas ripped into his skull; his vision blurred into a red mist as he stumbled his way through the flame eaten lawn, pushed himself into the dark canals of his home. There was nothing, no one, save the thick stench of death, a smell so rotten and heavy that he immediately doubled over and vomited over what once was plush, velvet carpet.

_Dead._

He didn’t need to see a body to know that. Frankly, he didn’t _want_ to see it. Apart of him – the detective part, that stupid, logical, analysing freak – urged him onwards, whispered that he ought to confirm the worst before he jumped to any conclusion. But really, what other option was there? This was his Uncle’s home, burned to ashes before his very eyes.

_Run._

_You are in danger._

Had that really been Ouma? He reached into his pocket and fumbled around for his phone. It took too many attempts to press the on switch, his hand so slick with sweat that it left sticky beads across his keypad and display. When finally the device had flashed to life, thirty more messages popped into his notifications.

Most of them were the same thing. **RUN** and the occasional **YOU ARE IN DANGER** interspersed among those. But it was the most recent that caught his attention.

One that had been sent thirty minutes ago.

**YOU HAVE THIRTY MINUTES TO HIDE**

And the most recent.

One minute ago.

**READY OR NOT**

**HERE WE COME**

Shuichi knew. He just knew. He left his phone in that abyss of flame and death. He left everything he’d ever known behind him, and he ran like he had never run before.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a new motto that I am trying my darn'dest to live by.
> 
> "Don't be afraid to write crap."
> 
> For so long, I've lived in a perpetual state of limbo when it comes to my writing. The stars must align before I can even think of putting fingers to keys; the air must be warm and at a perfect temperature of 15c with only light winds and minimal clouds before I even attempt to translate my ideas into words. This mindset has done nothing but hold me back. So, here I am, finally getting around to this fic that I've wanted to write for a long time. Is it my proudest piece of writing? No. But I'm going to do it. And hopefully, I'll improve along the way!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of HIDE AND SEEK. Though I do love V3's twist at the end, a big part of me was really attached to the plotline they had already established. I wanted to write something that focused on just what went down during the Ultimate Hunt, since that aspect was especially fascinating to me. Creative liberties were taken; ships were indulged - and now we're here. 
> 
> In regards to schedule, this fic will be updated weekly. I really hope you enjoy this rollercoaster ride alongside me. If the first chapter has piqued your interest, I would most certainly appreciate a kudos and a comment! It really does inspire me to keep trekking on. 
> 
> Otherwise, thank you for reading and I'll see you in the next update very soon!


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